


Existing. Or not.

by Pitry



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitry/pseuds/Pitry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boy meets girl and they have a (happy) ever after. Vague Ashes to Ashes/ Life on Mars spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Existing. Or not.

He was staring at his drink when the redhead sat down next to him. He was staring at his drink a long time.

"You're going to drink that?" she asked. Scottish. He didn't reply. He did raise his eyebrows when she drank it instead of him.

"You know," he looked her up and down, "I could actually drink that. If I wanted to."

"But you didn't," she smiled. There was something in her smile. It wasn't exactly charming. It wasn't exactly cheeky.

It might have been a bit scared. A bit like Owen.

"But I could," he reiterated.

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't feel like it anymore. Doesn't taste the same."

She eyed him. Big eyes. The kind you can get lost in. Maybe once upon a time. When she was happy. When she wasn't so terrified. When he wasn't thinking of other things.

"I'm dead," he declared.

She looked nervously at the crack on the wall behind her. "I'm not sure I was ever alive," she said and shuddered.

"So this isn't the afterlife?" he scanned the pub around him. He couldn't complain, not really. As far as afterlives went, this seemed to be a pretty shitty one. Not that Owen was an expert or anything. But still. He could spot a rubbish afterlife when he saw one.

"Are you saying I don't get an afterlife?" she protested. She looked cute with her eyes narrowing at him.

"Well, if you never existed, how can you get an afterlife?" he retorted. She still wasn't pleased. And she was definitely getting hotter the angrier she became.

"Existing is irrelevant," she decided after a while.

"You should listen to her, Mon Brave," the bartender showed up out of nowhere to offer his (unwanted) advice.

"Why?" he said, rebellious to the last. "What has she got that I should listen to her?"

"Great legs," the bartender said, and was gone. Someone out there was calling for a a beer. And Owen still didn't get to drink.

"Well, sod this," he finally decided. "I've had enough." And he got up to leave, but the redhead got up after him.

"Wait," she called. "It's a bit boring in here, isn't it? All on my own." She gave the wall another glance, and offered her hand to Owen. "Care to not exist together?"

"I thought existing is irrelevant?" he half-asked, half-teased, but she said nothing, just kept her arm outstretched, inviting him. He took her hand, and they both stepped through the door. The bartender smiled for a moment, then went back to wiping the glasses.

There will be more costumers soon.


End file.
